


Prologue

by Phyrseer



Series: Bolts & Bones [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phyrseer/pseuds/Phyrseer
Summary: Just an average day in the Underswap universe---for the time being.
Series: Bolts & Bones [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069889





	Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Underswap/Fellswap AU that may include violent topics, fluff, and profanity altogether. This story was based on an RP on Tumblr back in 2016 (with some revisions). Read at your own discretion.

It was a cold, winter's night and the underground seemed to have frozen over. No monster was roaming about at this hour. Jack Frost truly nipped at their souls, the cold temperature biting at their health the longer they would be in it. All monsters were home in their cozy burrows, caves, and houses. In the conditions of the underground, a brief period of hibernation was the key to staying warm and safe. However, not all monsters were able to keep their eyes closed.

In the region of Hotland, the fiery pits were undisturbed and dormant in the coolness of the under-earth air. East of this place was a large, secluded lab that was watched over by a peculiar scientist. Strands of loosened hair fell over the said scientist. Her lanky stature hunched over a hefty collection of scrap metal, rummaging and picking apart formations. "C-Come on...where's that p-piece?" She had been sitting there in the midst of her mess for what seemed like hours, trying to locate a specific piece essential to her personal project. 

A world defined by the loss of a war, the mere outcome that affected further generations of monsters who became well versed with this story. Monsters and humans, coexisting in an out-of-sight, out-of-mind inhabitance. The restless scientist fueled her drive with the restlessness of her majesty and her own desire for freedom. Undyne wanted to change this way of living, and she was going to make the impossible---possible.

"Y-Yes! H-Here it i-is!" Fumbling over the collapsed towers of metal, she had unknowingly created over the past couple of days, she makes her way to her work station. Only a few tweaks and  _ Wa-lah! _ A robot is born! It was no simple task, but she was determined to seek her work through. And in its sleek, metallic glory—it was done! She propped it up and watched as the artificial soul statically held itself in place. Confusion scrunched up her features. It should have started up after that last component. So...why wasn't it? She huffed out a disappointed sigh and carried the box over to a pile of cardboard boxes. Usually, her projects were able to at least start up immediately. Seeing how it failed to follow the basic function of powering on discouraged her. 

In an annoyed huff, she hoisted up the metal box and plopped it into a junk-filled cardboard one. Trinkets, scrapped blueprints, useless scrap metal---generally things she needed to dispose of permanently. She dragged the box to her door before flopping down in defeat into the nearby couch. Her arm hung at the edge of the cushions and her feet dangled from the armrest. She gave another elongated sigh, her cheek squished against the armrest. Her dangling fingertips reached down into her lab coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled drawing. It was a sketch of the prototype she desired to make prior to making the blueprints. "Y-You were going to change o-our world...g-give monsters a hope they c-can't grasp anymore.." Her eyes started to feel heavy; and soon enough, her hand fell limp. The sleep she had stubbornly held at bay had finally caught up to her.

The hours passed as swiftly as the cool air, and all monsters slept soundly through the night with no casualties. Though there was no sun, their days were reliant on the rise and fall of temperature. The caves were slowly starting to warm up, and the circadian rhythm of the monsters was in sync. Hour by hour, the monsters were stepping out into their domains and greeting each other for the day.

There were, however, two particular monster brothers who seemed to be out of sync with the rest. Awake, but bickering to start off their daily cycle. Many monsters who passed by their cozy cabin either responded in a light-hearted chuckle or a shift in walking pace. No one really visited their home or bothered them until they would be out in public. And thus, the day began.

The warmth of the day crept into Sans’s room as the night had finally passed over. Just as soon as the cold was tugged away, so were his blankets. Phalanges curling and throwing the blankets over, Sans lept out of bed with an ecstatic wake. He stood with his palms pressed into his hips, rolling himself up onto his toes as he breathed in. Coming back down to a level-standing, he exhaled, “Another day--Another chance to impress Alphys!” 

He started his morning stretches, idly talking to himself as he got his soul pumping excitedly. Arm over his skull, hand to elbow. “I think my new attack will really stun her today.” Gently pressing down on his elbow, palm over his scapula. “I hope I can show her during our training today!” Arms extended, twist the torso, and crackle up the spine. “I am MOST confident today will be a training day.” Warrior pose, crane the neck a bit, and look up. “Hmm..she  _ has _ been rather preoccupied whenever we schedule to train, though…” Squat and rest the forearms on the femur. “...but! I’m sure she’s just stirring up my fighting spirit!” He stands upright in one final stretch, sighing in satisfaction before going to put on a fresh outfit for the day.

A black turtleneck and cargo pants, for warm and friendly casual wear; A baby blue scarf wrap cloak, for the cold; and some homemade armor his brother made him in order to fit the desired outcome of a Royal Guard! Before leaving the room, he made sure to arrange his bedroom in a presentable manner. Folded pajamas, tucked in sheets, and the closet door closed. Check. He stood at the room’s center and nodded to himself in approval with a big grin. Satisfied with his cleanliness, he turned about-face for the door. 

He stood at the railings of the stairs and looked to his brother’s room. Ever quiet, undisturbed, and still closed off in the early hours of the day. He couldn’t help but scoff and roll his eyes with a smile, “That brother of mine and his sleep schedules.” He exhaled a small sigh and turned back towards the stairs. Just on cue, though, his orderly routine was short-lived upon taking that first step. His sockets guttered from the discomforting squish that sent a chill up his spine. He froze in place, his toes curling into his boots as to try and guess what thick, soggy material was sandwiched between the step and his foot.  _ Dare I look? Dare I assume what I think it is?  _ He thought, almost holding his breath in hopes it wasn’t what he was suspecting. He hesitated, then placed his palm over the wall beside him to lean into before slowly lifting his foot. 

Just able to peek at what was stepped on, he was reluctant to see it just being a dirty sock left behind--undoubtedly Papyrus’s.  _ It's fine...It's fine. It's just one sock, no need to get angry. You can handle this tiny obstacle, you are the future captain of the royal guard!  _ He tried to laugh it off, proceeding to lift his foot away to pick it up. The sock decided not to lift off the ground as easily, so he tugged on it some more. A string of gooey honey stuck from the base of the sock to the wooden step. He could feel the base of his sockets twitching. He grumbled and sighed irritably soon after, storming off into the culprit's room, evidence in hand.

A fully-hooded Papyrus lay on the mattress on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. Tired, but restless. He was hardly able to get a wink of sleep the night prior, so his blank ceiling-staring routine allowed him room for thought. He had come home from Muffet’s diner after a good four hours of binge-drinking his favorite condiment, honey. The soothing texture that warmly slid down his throat gave him a sweet and savory kind of high. Droplets of momentary bliss with every gulp. It was natural for him to miss a few nights of sleep from time to time, but it seemed like it was inevitable nowadays. To fixate himself on his sweet addiction, only to come home and wait for the cycle to repeat itself. He lay there and heard the muffled grumbling of his brother through the walls, wondering what he had done wrong today.

As expected, his smaller brother came barging in. "Dang it, Papy! This is absolutely unacceptable! This is the final straw! You need to be more responsible for your actions and GROW UP!" His booming voice sounded a lot more intense today, and it made Papyrus sit up almost instantly. "Uh..something the matter, bro?" He immediately knew that was the wrong question to ask him right now, as plainly expressed on his exasperated face. His starry eyes were full of rage, and his smile was faded away. He didn't say a word. He just huffed out and acknowledged the question with a held up sock that was half-coated with honey. Papyrus’s shoulders tensed up and his face grimaced at the sloppy mess he had gotten himself into. He couldn’t even recall how it happened. He knew he loved honey but--on his socks?

The tension between the brothers began to fade after Sans closed his eyes and pinched his brow with his other hand. "Papyrus...I'm serious this time. You need to stop wasting your days away with all the honey you drink. It's...It's just not healthy. I'm really worried about you." His eyes held no anger against him, but rather concern and fear. He knew he was right, but he couldn't bring himself out of this hole he was in. He gave a soft sigh and slumped over with his head hung low, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, Yeah I know..."

Papyrus was a monster of little words, but his message wasn't at all convincing to his older brother. Sans walked downstairs without another word, disposing of the ruined sock just as he knew Papyrus would dispose of their conversation. Papyrus would be turning 21 in just a matter of a few days, and it rattled Sans's bones. If Papyrus had a drinking problem with honey, who's to say the next step would be alcohol? He hesitated to leave him alone, his hand gripping the doorknob.

Sans turned back to look at the balcony, seeing the partially open door to Papyrus's room. He was just barely able to see his shoulder from where he stood. Papyrus hadn't moved from his spot, just as hesitant to move. Sans decided to leave him be for the time being.  _ I can't trust him...but I must have faith in him. If he sees that, maybe he'll have more faith in himself,  _ he thought as he turned back to the door. With a turn of the knob, he made his way out and proceeded with his day.

**Author's Note:**

> In my alternate Underswap universe copy, Sans is older than Papyrus by 3 years!


End file.
